


AU Meme: Emma Peel

by thisbluespirit



Category: The Avengers (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ficlet, Gen, Humor, Memes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 05:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12550400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisbluespirit/pseuds/thisbluespirit
Summary: 10 AU scenarios for Emma Peel, written for Liadt in a Dreamwidth meme.





	AU Meme: Emma Peel

**Wild West**  
“I keep a very well run town, you know,” said Sheriff Peel. “Quiet, clean, tidy – no brawls.”

“And very impressive it is, too.”

“So, how come every time you turn up, it takes about five minutes and twenty seconds for all hell to break loose?”

Steed looked injured. “I’ve been here for five minutes already and nothing has –”

Outside, the bank exploded.

“Right on cue,” said Sheriff Peel, putting away her pocket watch. She threw him a look. “I suppose we’d better go and sort it out.”

 

 **Coffee Shop**  
“But I didn’t order any coffee,” said the man who opened the door.

“Ours is a very special coffee delivery service,” said Steed. “You tell him, Mrs Peel.”

“We feed in all known variables to my computer, calculating who in the city has the greatest need for caffeine and, _voila_ , here we are, ready with coffee for the needy soul.”

 

As the door shut in their faces – again – they exchanged a glance.

“It seemed like such a good idea on paper,” said Emma.

“I told you we should have tried champagne delivery instead.”

 

 **Shapeshifters**  
The wolf howled at the door.

Emma stuck her head out of the window. “Patience, Steed – give me a moment to change!”

 

 **Fantasy/Fairy Tale**  
Sir John helped the Lady Emma down the last few inches of rope stretching from the tower she’d been locked in.

“At last,” she said, with a smile. “I’d begun to think something had happened to you.”

“I got waylaid.”

She pulled a sympathetic face as she touched the cut on his cheek. “Poor Sir John. Still, it gave me time to deal with the witch. Now, what?”

“I think we’ll finally have to put a stop to that dragon.”

They both stared down from the hill, across the forest below to where smoke was belching out of the mountains.

“Much smoke, tiny flame?” said Lady Emma hopefully.

Sir John shook his head and held out his arms as wide as they would go. “But I hear tell there will be a banquet for the victors.”

“Oh, well,” said Lady Emma, “in that case, lead on. I’m starving. They only feed you gruel in these towers.”

 

 **. . . In SPACE!!**  
Emma had almost finished cataloguing a unique collection of alien flora and fauna picked up during an exploratory voyage. She had had a marvellous time, although there had been one thing lacking, she’d found. She merely hoped now that she could complete the cataloguing before –

She picked up her mobile info-device only to find that a familiar message had appeared on its screen. She lifted her head, biting down on a smile. “Steed. I suppose it’s too much to hope that you’ve come to take me out on a celebratory dinner in honour of my triumphant return?”

“That too,” said Steed, approaching her. “But there is the little matter of the murder of the Home Secretary to attend to first.”

She held out her hand. “I might have known. And yet –”

He raised an enquiring eyebrow.

“I’ve missed you,” she said.

“Ah, the nights are long on Saturn, are they?”

She gave him her hand. “Something like that.”

 

 **Apocalypse**  
“So,” said Steed, after a long period of silence in the cellar, where the two agents were currently tied back to back. “It’s been a while. He can’t have gone through with it, can he? He can’t have ended the world. We’d have heard something.”

“Not with a bang, but with a whimper,” murmured Emma. “The logic is inescapable: he had the means, we know he was ready to do it, and we were the only people who could stop him. And we’re a bit tied up. I’m afraid this must be it.”

Steel glanced around the cellar. “Ah. He did say he’d had the place altered to double as a bunker. I suppose now we linger on until we run out of supplies. An ignominious fate.”

“Could be worse,” said Emma.

“Mrs Peel, it’s the end of the world!”

“And we’re locked together in a wine cellar. It could be worse.”

 

 **Schoolfic**  
Emma caught John’s paper aeroplane before it flew onto the teacher’s desk. Surreptitiously, she unfolded it.

“Emma,” it said, “we’re needed. Behind the bike sheds, after school.”

 

 **Police/Firefighters/Medical**  
“Scalpel,” said Mrs Peel, about to begin the operation – a delicate technique she was pioneering and her patient’s last hope.

Her assistant passed her a rose.

“A nice gesture, Steed,” she said, hiding her smile. “And I’m sure the patient will appreciate it after I’m done with him. But for now, the scalpel, please.”

 

 **Supernatural**  
“Mrs Peel, I’m in desperate need of your help,” said the gentleman at the door. “That is - you _are_ Emma Peel, the renowned specialist in psychic activity?”

Emma allowed herself to preen a little at the flattery. “I like to think so. Come in. What seems to be the problem?”

“It’s my flat,” he said, removing his bowler hat. “It appears to be haunted.”

“Hmm. And has anyone died there, particularly in late years?”

The man hunted around in his pockets. “Wait, now, where did I put the list?”

 

 **Regency**  
“Good afternoon, Mrs Peel,” said a stranger, having the nerve to accost her in the park.

Emma gave him a frosty look, but he persisted.

“You will forgive me introducing myself, I trust,” he said, “but you have been pointed out to me as a lady with a unique set of skills. My name is Steed – John, Steed – and it’s my business to put to flight the enemies of the Crown – Bonapartist agents, over-enthusiastic steam enthusiasts, assorted revolutionaries, murderous Methodists and the like. We’re badly needed – the department is sorely overstretched.”

“Well, then,” said Emma, who found herself considerably intrigued. “Never let it be said that I was not willing to serve my country. Where do we start?”


End file.
